


Christmas Spirit

by Skew



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 03:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skew/pseuds/Skew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small Yuletide treat - On Christmas Eve, the 4077th gets an unexpected visitor. (Major spoilers for the end of Season 3 onwards.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Spirit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chickadilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chickadilly/gifts).



'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the camp, not a creature was stirring - none, that was, except for Hawkeye.

He couldn't sleep. It was nothing to do with the time of year, just the restlessness that affected him whatever the season, but tonight was being a particularly bad night. After an hour or two tossing and turning in his bunk, he got up, pulled on his boots and parka, and headed out into the cold winter night to get some air. He strolled through camp without much thought to where he was going, letting the chill wind clear his head.

He rounded a corner and saw something that made him stop in his tracks.

Henry Blake was standing in the middle of camp. Henry Blake, whose plane had plunged into the Sea of Japan a year and a half ago. He was wearing the same suit they'd sent him off in; a frond of seaweed dangled off his collar.

"Heyo!" Henry said, seeing Hawkeye and waving to him.

Hawkeye rubbed his tired eyes.

"This isn't happening," he muttered to himself.

Henry frowned. "Is there a problem?"

"God dammit," Hawkeye said, still talking to himself. "Sidney's going to have a field day with this. I'd just gotten used to being a common-or-garden neurotic and now I'm having psychotic delusions."

Henry took a few steps closer, and Hawkeye felt a shiver run through him that had nothing to do with the cold.

"Hawkeye," Henry said. He reached out a hand, and Hawkeye watched as it swept straight through his shoulder.

"Damn," Henry said. "Look, let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain," Hawkeye said. "I'm tired. I ate something that didn't agree with me. And now I'm going back to the Swamp and going to sleep instead of talking to people who aren't there." He turned and started to walk away, feeling shaken.

"Pierce!" Henry shouted after him. "Stop thinking about yourself for one blessed second and listen to me!"

Hawkeye glanced back over his shoulder.

"Look, I know you're not exactly a spiritual kind of guy," Henry said, running up to him (his shoes making no noise in the mud), "But I'm not fooling around. I'm a ghost. The real dealio. Walking through walls and everything. And I've got a message for you."

Hawkeye stopped, and turned to face Henry.

"A ghost. Seriously."

"No word of a lie," Henry said. "Cross my heart and hope to... well, you know."

"This is... okay, so how did you get here?" Hawkeye said. "I'm guessing there isn't a bus service."

"It's complicated," Henry said. "You've got to fill out a lot of forms to get permission for an earthly visitation, and I don't have a Radar up there to help me. I very nearly wasn't allowed, but they went easy on me 'cause it's Christmas."

"They have forms in the afterlife?"

"Surprisingly bureaucratic, yeah. Apparently it has to be, there's so many people," Henry said, with a sigh. "And there's all these weird rules. For example, I can only go down in the clothes I was last wearing, which'd be fine except this darned suit's so wet." He tried to wring out his sleeve; the water fell but never hit the ground.

"Henry, this is - well, there's so much to ask. I mean, what did it feel like? Is there a god? Angels, demons, what? Somehow I can't imagine you floating around on a cloud," Hawkeye said. Henry gave him a regretful smile.

"Ah, 'fraid I'm not allowed to give too much away," Henry said. "I can tell you this, though - it's not quite like they said it was going to be, but it's not bad, not bad at all. You'd like it."

"Yeah, well, with any luck I won't be joining you for a long while yet," Hawkeye said.

"I damn well hope so," Henry said, and fished around in his jacket, pulling out a crumpled note. "Now, I came down here because I've got things to tell everybody."

"Like what?" Hawkeye said, sticking his hands in his pockets, strolling along with Henry as if it was old times and they were discussing supplies or haggling over a three-day pass.

"Well, I wanted a chat with your new CO to find out what the camp's been like without me. Forwarding a message from somebody important to tell Father Mulcahy to keep up the good work. Wanted to see how Radar's getting on, maybe go and chat with McIntyre -"

"Trapper's not here any more," Hawkeye said. "He got sent home a couple of weeks after you did."

"Oh?" Henry said, frowning. "Oh. How'd you take it?"

Hawkeye waggled a hand, indicating a mixed result.

"Wasn't very happy at first," he said, "But his replacement's a great guy. BJ's not a hellraiser like Trapper was, but he's a fine surgeon and a genius when it comes to practical jokes. Though if there's any ghostly tricks you can pull to convince him to shave off his horrible moustache, it'd be very much appreciated."

Henry laughed. "Poltergeist-type stuff is _definitely_ against the rules, sad to say. Otherwise I'd probably have something in store for Frank as well."

"Oh, Frank's not here any more either," Hawkeye said. "He cracked up for good a while back."

"Wow, Klinger must've been mad that somebody got a Section 8 before he did," Henry said, taking out a stub of pencil and amending his notes.

"He did sulk for a while, yeah," Hawkeye said, "Anyway, Frank's replacement's okay. I won't say we get along, because we don't, but he's an entirely new and fascinating version of annoying. It's nice to have a challenge."

"Any other comings and goings you'd like to tell me about?" Henry said. Hawkeye thought about it, and shook his head.

"No, asides from that, it's the same as it ever was," he said. "The food's terrible, the weather's worse, kids keep on getting hurt and we keep putting them back together again. The fun never ends in the R.O.K." He sighed, running his hands through his hair.

"You're getting by okay, aren't you, Hawkeye?" Henry said, looking concerned. "I don't remember you being so grey."

Hawkeye shrugged. "My dad got his first grey hair when he was seventeen, I wouldn't read too much into it." He didn't feel like he could admit to Henry - even though Henry could hardly blab to anyone else - that his coping mechanisms weren't working as well as they used to, and his grasp on reality seemed to be getting thinner by the day. Henry'd come a long way, and Hawkeye didn't want to be a downer.

"Well, as long as you're sure you're coping," Henry said. "I'd hug you, but you know - intangible, and all." He checked his watch. "Look, I'd love to stay and chat all night but I can't be down here long and I've got a lot of people to see. At the very least, I'd like to spend some time with Radar."

Hawkeye nodded. "You should, even if you don't talk to anyone else. He's done his best to be strong, but I know he misses you a lot."

Henry smiled. "Well, I'll be on that. It was good to see you, Hawkeye."

"And you," Hawkeye said, giving a not-quite-regulation salute. Henry turned to head for the offices, and then paused, swivelling back round.

"Oh, while I remember!" he called back. "I had a message to deliver to you, too."

"Oh yeah?" Hawkeye said, frowning.

"Yeah, your mother wanted to me to tell you, she's been looking out for you, and she's very proud," Henry said.

That got Hawkeye right where it hurt. He felt his throat closing up, but managed to stutter out a reply.

"Tell her - tell her I send my love," he said. "And that I miss her, and think about her all the time."

Henry nodded.

"I'll do that," he said. "Well, then - abyssinia!"

"See you around, Henry," Hawkeye said. "Don't be a stranger."

He turned away and headed back to the Swamp. Outside the door, he paused, taking one deep breath, and then another. He glanced over his shoulder, just in case, but Henry wasn't there any more.

Hawkeye headed inside, shed his boots, and crawled under his sheets, curling up tight. Of all the strange and perverse things he'd seen in a strange and perverse war, that had shook him like few things did. He still didn't entirely believe he hadn't just imagined it, but despite his reservations, there was something about the whole thing which felt reassuring.

He slept soundly until dawn.


End file.
